Page 22 of How Not to Date an Angel

Rami narrowed their gaze, lips tight as they waved the opposite hand over the mug. A smidge of magic, like the drag of a feather through the air.

The porcelain warmed beneath their touch, and they drank the last bit of it in one go.

The smooth taste burned all the way down.

Rami

Rami managed to avoid the demon for most of the remaining daylight hours. It wasn’t until thoughts of dinner distracted them enough from the book they were reading, holed up in their office, that they finally decided they’d had enough isolation for one day.

They did not feel like ordering in, but it felt—well, it felt rather intimate to prepare a meal for someone, didn’t it? They could’ve sworn that’s how most humans courted one another. Homemade meals.

And they did not desire to give the demon any idea of the sort.

But they had this lovely wine they’d been eager to crack into, and nothing went better with that than the risotto they’d been wanting to make.

Whenthey shut off the lights and closed the office door behind them, they paused, listening for the demon’s whereabouts.

There. Upstairs, the drone of the television from their bedroom. They heard a laugh track, and beneath that, the warm chuckle of the demon.

Rami almost rolled their eyes, but resisted. Of course the demon would be watching television. Who was Rami to judge how the demon spent his time?

Properly self-chastised, Rami trailed to the kitchen and began pulling out the ingredients they would need. They tried to be quiet, lest they draw the demon’s attention, but by the time they’d flipped the shrimp, sizzling in the hot pan with the oil and spices, they heard the television go quiet.

Rami tensed, though they reminded themself tobreathe,and attempted to relax their shoulders.

One of the stairs creaked as Julian descended to the first floor, and Rami made themself preoccupied with chopping the onion and garlic. It was already diced. What was a bit more dicing?

“Playing housewife?” Julian asked, and Rami stiffened their spine.

“You say that as if it would be an insult, but I’d like you to try to take care of half the responsibilities ahousewifeis in charge of.” Nothing ruffled Rami’s feathers more than the wives sitting on their yellow couch, suffering from carrying the mental workload of an entire family while the husbands waited to be told what to do.

“Aw, come on, Feathers, I meant nothing by it,” Julian said, leaning against the counter to Rami’s right, draping himself across it like a misplaced dishtowel.

“If you don’t mean anything by it, why say it?” Rami challenged, barely glancing at the demon from the corner of their eye.

Julian’s gaze on them sharpened and idled for a long moment. Rami stared at the shrimp, willing it to cook faster.

“I’m sorry I invaded the office space. It won’t happen again,” Julian said, standing up straighter, sprawling less over their counter space.

Rami stilled, spatula hovering over the shrimp. They sat with their thoughts until the shrimp was pink and opaque, and then lifted the pan to scrape them onto a plate.

Then they added more oil and the garlic and onion to the pan. It sizzled upon contact, and they spoke over it.

“I forgive you.”

“Well, that was easy,” Julian scoffed.

Rami arched a brow, finally turning to meet the demon’s eyes, managing not to peer at the broken horn first. “Are you sincere?”

Julian’s brows furrowed. “I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t. Why would I lie?”

“You are literally a demon,” Rami pointed out, rolling their eyes.

“Okay, you got me there,” Julian said, and Rami felt the beginnings of a smile tug at their lips.

Finishing dinner up was easy, even with the demon lingering around and touching everything he could, opening cabinets to explore, sliding open drawers before shutting them with a clink of whatever was inside when it didn’t strike his interest. As distracted as he was, Rami studied him when they could do it without getting caught. The hornwassmoother along the broken edge this time—they weren’t imagining it.

“Is your horn… regrowing?” Rami asked.

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